


Can't Say Goodbye To Yesterday

by TellThemNaegi



Series: The Road We Walked [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Despair in-between the lines, Explicit Language, Friendship, Gen, Hallucinations, Headmaster Naegi, Implied Relationships, Iruma Miu Being Iruma Miu, Post-Dangan Ronpa 3, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-28 20:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15056807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellThemNaegi/pseuds/TellThemNaegi
Summary: Time heals all wounds, but some scars ought to last forever.With despair nearly forgotten, Headmaster Makoto Naegi undergoes the trials of the next generation; dealing with the newly rebuilt HPA's most notorious delinquents. While all were designated for expulsion, Makoto has better plans. The V3 cast either serve 3 months detention or escape by beating the headmaster at their own game. To the student's displeasure and fascination, they start to consider if there's more to the perpetually laid-back Makoto than what meets the eye.(Set 16 years after DR3)





	Can't Say Goodbye To Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> I never really understood why Naegi would re-open Hope's Peak Academy after the system did far more harm than good in the long run, but here's my take on it. With a little V3 spice, of course.

Makoto Naegi remembered his adolescent days. A time where his youthful steps left behind trails of endless possibilities. It might have been the lack of responsibility, but life seemed so much brighter back then.

As if to affirm that theory, he took one look outside at the school yard, where students of different ages, races and personalities engaged in multitudes of activities, yet they all had one in common; they were at peace in their own way. A testament to the Future Foundation's hard-fought victory.

Not that the foundation existed anymore. Even that hadn’t survived The Tragedy.

He stared almost enviously, and doubtlessly nostalgic, at their carefree faces. Those children were in his old shoes now, while he stepped into the roles of his predecessors – many of whom, were no longer among the living. The Tragedy had taken something from everyone; friends, families…sanities. There was no exception.

Finally, the world was finally taking its first steps out of the dark age brought by **The Super High School Level Despair**. He (and his friends) renovated Hope’s Peak Academy in the hopes that it would act as the foundation for a better future. Unfortunately, as Makoto learned quickly after becoming the headmaster, striving towards an ideal future was no easy task.  The reinstatement of HPA, for one, hadn’t come without notable resistance. Many were opposed to the proposal and with good reason. The Tragedy began right here, underneath everyone’s nose. It wasn’t just the SHSL Despair either, the seeds were planted by the committee itself. The super high school level talents were no longer wanted.

On the other hand, it was  _because_ the academy was the origin, that Makoto was steadfast in his decision to reconstruct it. The past wasn’t something to be swept under the rug or destroyed for convenience. Instead, it should be out in the open for all to learn from. After all, just as the SHSL Despair was created inside these very walls, so was the SHSL Hope. He wanted the new academy to mean something, to symbolize that hope would never give in, no matter how much was lost.

Makoto lost much of his fame as the savior of the world for his decision. There was a big argument about it, with a few careless remarks like narcissist thrown out there or how he’d developed a complex of superiority after going from a normal, talentless boy, to overthrowing the mastermind behind it all. Some even called him insane.

Makoto would be lying if he said he hadn’t laughed at how off-base the media could be. Not to mention ineffectual. After everything he’d gone through, slander was  _nothing,_  he wouldn’t let it deter him, and he was all the better for it. Each and every smiling child that walked through these halls served to buffer his confidence in the decisions he made. Makoto didn’t know about narcissism, but he certainly felt very accomplished.

That was problem number one. The second was a lot tougher for everyone involved. It was an arduous trial that all adults struggled to overcome:

Teenagers

The more unresponsive ones anyway. Currently, Makoto was on his way to hold detention for misbehaved students, who had tested the limits of their teachers' tolerance. There hadn’t been a single expulsion in the New HPA. Makoto liked to keep it that way and as principal, it was his job to deal with matters such as these.

As they say, there was nothing more important than children.

Makoto opened the door at his destination, capturing the attention of the 5 ‘miscreants’ (as Kirigiri told him) scattered across the room.

“What do we have here? If it isn’t my darling Makoto! Have you come down all this way to see little old me?” said a  short, purple-haired boy with the face of a middle-schooler.

“ _Darling_? I knew you swung that way, you fucking gremlin.” The coarse language came from a blonde girl  _clearly_  pushing the boundaries of what was considered to be appropriate school uniform.

“What’s wrong with liking boys, Bitch?”

“Everything! There is _everything_ wrong with liking degenerate males!” A twin-tailed girl rose from her seat, growling at the snickering boy.

“What a pain in the ass. Listening to you all’s giving me a headache.” The ratio of short males was rather ironically high. This one being the shortest of all, but unlike the first, was a no-nonsense person.

“I’ll have to side with Hoshi here. You’re all just plain annoying.” The final student was a blue-haired, bespectacled girl, openly expressing her exasperation for her fellow peers.

Makoto let out a small smile at the comical scene and took his place at the teacher’s desk. “Ouma-kun, we’re not in a relationship, I don’t see how you can call me that.”

“WAAAAAAAH! Hear that, guys? Makoto’s breaking up with meeee!” Ouma Kokichi, **The Super High School Level Supreme Leader** , let loose a flood of crocodile tears that failed to earn even the slightest bit of notice from those environing him. Ouma was a pathological liar. A fact that infuriated his professors and…pretty much everyone, to no end. Accounting for his numerous pranks and uncooperative behavior. He was designated as the single most troublesome student in school…and he’d probably be proud of that.

“Please refrain from cursing, Iruma. It might be too much to ask all the time, but at least don’t do it where your teachers (and me) can hear.”

“Fuck that. Those blue-balled idiots should be grateful Miu-sama gives them the time of day. Maybe I’ll let em cop a feel if it gets them to stop snitching.” Miu Iruma **The Super High School Level Inventor**. A promising youth with a brain unfortunately matched by her vulgarity.  The things he heard this girl say would make a sailor blush and consider a life of chastity. Definitely not behavior befitting a child like herself.

“Be quiet for the next hour, Miu. Or else I’ll _make_ you.” The thinly veiled threat came from  Ryoma Hoshi **The Super High School Level Tennis Pro**

“I wouldn’t go that far, Hoshi. And you shouldn’t threaten your classmates either.” The boy was something of a conundrum. On one hand, he was fairly responsible, homework and grades were decent and accounted for. On the other, he was distant and antagonistic towards peers and teachers alike. An island to himself, snapping at anyone who encroached on him.

“Tenko understands that Miu can be a little… _Miu_. HOWEVER, if you dare harm one hair on her head, Tenko will send you flying, Ryoma.” Tenko Chabashira **The Super High School Level, Aikido Master**. A kind, protective girl…to others of the same gender. Chabashira was accused of misandry, exemplifying a great deal of  violence to the boys in her class, to the point of practicing her martial arts on them…involuntarily.

Onto the last.

“Shirogane.”

“…”

“Shirogane-kun.”

“The headmaster’s calling your name. Least you can do is get dicks out of your brain and answer, slut.” Iruma attacked the bluenette with some very poor word choices. 

Shirogane twitched. “Impressive. I was mind-gaming myself into ignore you all and I was actually in my room cosplaying, but I couldn’t last a minute. Miu’s power level is just too high to suppress.” Tsumugi Shirogane **The Super High School Level Cosplayer**. A girl with a fondness for cosplay…and nothing else. Similar to Hoshi, she kept her distance, and was somehow even more unresponsive to her environment. Additionally, she’d been skipping far too many classes.

Makoto scratched his cheek, a nervous habit he’d never grown out of. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re here.”

“If we’re being lumped in with _Ouma_ , I know it’s nothing good.” Hoshi held onto his hat.

“Unfortunately, you’re correct. Each and every one of you have broken one too many rules and are on the verge of expulsion.”

“WHAT!?” The classroom exploded.

“Tenko is being pranked, right?”

“I wish that was the case, but I’m serious. I’ve never come across a scenario like this in my career as headmaster. You can imagine how surprising it is for me as well.”

“T-T-This is bullshit. Do something, Naeggs. A genius like me can’t get expelled. I’ll lose access to all my supplies.” Iruma whimpered.

“That’s why we’re here today. I’ve proposed a tentative solution. All of you will spend detention with me here for the next 3 months, where you’ll reform yourselves.”

“A full three months? This is going to be rough.” Hoshi sighed. Makoto directed a smile his way. His words implied he’d go through with the process. The headmaster couldn’t force these students to be here, this was strictly a voluntary process…only with harsh repercussions for abstaining.

“Pretty clever, Makoto. But you’re not pulling a fast one on me. I knew you didn’t have the cajones to expel us.” Ouma laughed.

“Why’s that?” Makoto blinked in confusion.

“You’re a corporate  _stooge_. There’s no way you’d want a blemish on your perfect student body record. Expel us and Hope’s Peak loses face. Oh, the other reason’s because you’re a total pushover, Makoto-chan.” Ouma’s analysis was…impressive. Makoto gladly admitted to and approved the genius, behind the clowny antics. Makoto had a reputation among the student body as being an easy-going guy, which was about 70% true, and thanks to his celebrity status, his biography was out there for the world to see – He couldn’t exactly lie. Makoto’s personality made it easy for students approach him, but some happened to get the idea that meant he could be taken advantage of.

Despite Makoto’s forever youthful appearance…he was no longer that meek 17-year-old, as these children would soon find out.

“Oh, that’s what you meant. I can’t say you don’t have a point...but I don’t really mind expelling you 5.” Makoto leaned back into the clean chalkboard, taking in their surprise at the cold-hearted statement. “That is to say, that I don’t mind admitting HPA has failed in educating youth, **_if_** that was the truth. That’s a much better outcome than ignoring the problem and letting you carry on without resolving your misconduct. If we can’t do it, then maybe the next school you attend will be better equipped.” He smiled.

“What the heck?” Ouma muttered.

"What schools would accept the first batch of expelled students from Hope’s Peak? We’d carry that stigma for the rest of our lives!” Shirogane cried.

“It’ll be tough, but I have hope you guys will figure something out if you put your minds to it. Though, in my opinion, you’d have an easier time just going along with what I have planned.”

The tiny class of students settled down, feeling the weight of the oppressive atmosphere.

“I’ll have you correct yourselves and hopefully, we’ll see major improvements. Incidentally, I’ll only accept absences related to school work or emergencies. Further violations and I’ll be forced to kick you guys out. Play nice, okay?”

“It feels like we’re in juvie.” Hoshi said.

“Yeah, only missing the handcuffs…actually, that’d be kind of hot. D-Do we…have any?” Iruma’s voice took on a submissive tone that drew everyone’s disturbed stares towards and quickly _away_ from her drooling face.

“What I mean was that you should take it easy on us, okay? People don’t change that easily.” The tennis pro raised a valid point.

“I’m not trying to brainwash you guys. The board just wants to see if there’s still possibility for improvement.”

“Tenko can’t accept this. She promised to help Himiko practice magic and Naegi-san is getting in the way!” Chabashira glared, suggesting she wasn’t ready to fall in line. What to do…

“The man-hater’s reasons aside, she’s right. We all have shit to do, like running an evil empire. You want to know what happens when you leave your post for 3 months? You get an uprising. Is that what you want, Makoto? For me to get overthrown by my eviler – but not nearly as handsome – second-in command?

Makoto blinked, befuddled by Ouma’s rationale. Come to think of it, how was being an evil supreme leader a talent and who approved it- oh right, he was on sick-leave and left selection up to Hiro.

Not one of his better ideas.

Makoto folded his arms at the remaining resistance, thinking of a compromise, while not steering away from his goal.

“Alright, I’ll make a deal with all of you.” He clapped his hands. “I’ll let you all off the hook _this once_. However, only if the 5 of you can best me in a contest.”

“Now you’re speaking my language. What kind of contest?” Ouma’s face darkened with glee.

“I’ll leave the choice up to you guys, but you only have 4 tries and it has to be a team effort. You have until the first month to beat me, otherwise you’re here for all 3. Of course, you _will_ attend detention accordingly until that point. All planning will also have to be done after detention.”

 “You’re giving us the right to choose? You’re plainly confident.” Shirogane cocked her head to the side.

“Nishishi, this is turning out to be more fun than I expected. I’m game!” Ouma declared.

“Tenko as well. Prepare yourself, degenerate male.” Tenko stanced.

“It’ll be easy as piss.” Iruma cackled.

“I have a feeling this won’t be as easy as you think.” Hoshi shook his head. He was right to.

This was a gamble, and one Makoto wasn’t ready to lose. After all, while he was just the headmaster now, he was once a student like them, meaning he had a talent too.

**The Super High School Level Good Luck.**

 

-Round 1-

 

The week after the gauntlet was thrown had been relatively peaceful. To Makoto’s good luck, the five kept their word and attended detention without a fuss. Although they weren’t as productive as he’d have liked _in_ detention. He couldn’t count how many times he caught Ouma getting up to one of his pranks, or how often he had to reprimand Chabashira for threatening the guys, while he was teaching! Shirogane and Hoshi were reactive by nature, but also got wrapped in along with everyone else when the chaos grew too big.

Iruma was…a special case and that’s all he’ll say about her.

One thing he did note was strange, was light bruises on some of their faces. Whenever he asked, they always replied by telling him he had nothing to worry about. What were they up to?

He suspected he would soon find out. Imagine his surprise when he met an empty detention class and found only a note lying in wait, instructing him to come to Chabashira’s Talent laboratory.

“You’ve come at last, menace!” The aikido master ‘welcomed him’, donned in a casual blue outfit. The others stood behind her in a single line formation, all wearing karate uniforms.

 “I’m guessing this is your first attempt.”

“And the last! Tenko challenges you to a showdown.” Chabashira proclaimed.

“Nishishi. You dug your own grave, Makoto. We decided the quickest and easiest way to get this over with…is to beat the crap out of you and not get punished!” Ouma cackled, arms spread wide.

Looking closely though, it seemed like the boy was struggling to keep his arms extended, his face contorting in pain.

“We decided? You just went for it all on your own and manipulated Tenko.” Shirogane commented.

“You see, Makoto darling….you are a total wimp! I’ve seen that footage of the killing game, and you got knocked the fuck out by that dweeb with the cornbread hair. You’ve got zero chance against Tenko here.” Ouma gloated.

“Leaving all the work to a girl? Aren’t you ashamed of how lame you are?” Shirogane bit at him again.

“Shut.The.Fuck.Up. I’m the hype-man right now!”

Makoto nodded, turning to twin-tailed girl “I gotcha. But Chabashira-kun. I did mention that this would be a collaborative contest. You’re not really following the rules if you’re the only one fighting.”

“Incorrect, Naegi-san. Tenko put everyone through a crash-course on Neo-Akido and has been training them all week. You must defeat all five of us, even if by some impossible miracle, you were to defeat Tenko. That will never happen though.”

“She’s being literal with the crash-course part. My back is still killing me.” Hoshi complained.

“Really? I’m more or less fine.”  “Me too. Maybe you’re just weak.” Shirogane and Iruma said respectively.

“Oi, Tenko, what the fuck? Why are Ryoma and I the only ones in pain!?” Ouma pointed at the aikido master.

Makoto sweat-dropped. Why don’t they put this much effort into their studies?

“Now, get ready. You can find a uniform in the change room.” Chabashira said.

“That’s alright. I’ll be teaching right after this, so it’s faster if I keep my clothes on.” Makoto smiled, rolling up his sleeves as he stepped into the arena.

“Are you underestimating Tenko?” The girl fumed in indignation.

“Not at all. Feel free to come at me though.” Makoto smiled.

“Hmpf, don’t blame Tenko when you’re on the ground screaming for uncle.”

_30 seconds, one throw down and arm lock later_

“Tenko gives! Release me already!” Chabashira squirmed and pleaded underneath Makoto’s grip.

…

“What…just happened?” Ouma deadpanned.

“I think Tenko lost.” Hoshi rolled his eyes.

“Thank you for verifying that, Ryoma. How the hell did you lose, you incompetent twit!?” Ouma roared.

“This can’t be. Tenko has never been defeated by a male before. Except master, but he doesn’t count!” Chabashira lamented as Makoto released her.

“The purple oompa loompa’s right. How’d Tenko get trashed by a twink like Naeggs?” Miu asked.

“Ah well, a few things happened when I was a teenager and I lost a part of my memories. They slowly came back over time and I remembered I asked Sakura for a few pointers. I was never very good, but she taught me the basics.”

“Sakura? Sakura Ogami, the legendary **Super High School Level Fighter**?” Chabashira said with a tone of reverence. It was often how people spoke of Sakura. Like a mythological figure hailed for making the ultimate sacrifice that led to the killing game’s end.

“Eh? So you know about Sakura?”

“Are you touched in the head!? How could Tenko not admire the greatest martial artist to have ever lived?”

“And I’m sure Ogami being a woman has nothing to do with that.” Shirogane rolled her eyes.

The greatest martial artist huh? “After I got my memories back, I decided to continue training from scratch. Sakura’s boyfriend, Kenshiro trained me. I took down a black belt in about a year.” Thanks to Kenshiro being an even better fighter and trainer than Sakura, said by the ogre herself during the days they were trapped in Hope’s Peak Academy.

Makoto smiled ruefully. It was funny. He looked back on those days fondly, despite the horrible circumstance they found themselves in.

At least back then, everyone was still alive.

“In other words. This was a severe miscalculation.” Hoshi said.

“Looks that way. Now, who’s next?” Makoto beamed.

Ouma’s eyes widened. “But you already beat Tenko.”

Makoto tilted his head in confusion. “This is a team effort, remember? All of you need to beat me.” He cracked his knuckles.

 “Oh, errors have been made.” Ouma gulped

 

-Round 2-

 

Their next attempt was an interesting spin on the first, to say the least.

“What’ll it be this time?” Makoto asked, already having an idea himself. They’d invited him to the gymnasium, there was only a handful of scenarios that could play out here.

“Take it from the top, Ryoma!” Ouma yelled, dramatically.

“What? Did you guys let Ouma-kun be your boss?”

“That’s a bad joke if I’ve ever heard one.” Hoshi stepped forward, a determined glint in his eye. “This was _my_ idea.”

Makoto whistled. “It’s rare to see you so motivated.”

“You don’t get into sports without being a little competitive…I can’t take getting floored by you last time and leaving it at that. I still feel the pain in my bones.”

Chabashira nodded in 100% agreement.

“Kakakakaka! Talk about sore losers.” Iruma sneered…loudly.

“You want to die?” The short male’s growl made the inventor squeak in fear, looking to Chabashira for aid, the latter who pretended to see and hear nothing.

“She actually shut up. Maybe I should learn to channel my inner Maki too.” Shirogane said.

“Uh…so the theme is sports then?”

“Basketball, to be precise.”

“Not tennis?”

“Give me a break. This bunch of headcases don’t have anywhere near the focus and motor skill. Plus, Tennis is at best two-on-one.” Ryoma let out a sly smirk.

Makoto learnt why when the teams were made. Or rather, one team was made while he was left by himself.

“5-on-1. That’s kind of cheating isn’t it?” Makoto chuckled, nervously.

“Cheating? I call it _teamwork_.” Hoshi had his own dark side it seemed.

Makoto sighed. He should at least give them credit for flexibility. “What’s the rules?”

“First to 10  wins.” Hoshi said.

“And to show we’re not monsters, we’ll let you start with the ball.” Ouma grabbed the orange ball from the basket and tossed it to Makoto.

“Thanks, I needed that.” He spun the ball on one finger. “Hope you don’t regret it though.”

 “It’s 5 vs 1. There’s no way you can win, you’ll be exhausted by halftime.”

Kokichi Ouma sang those famous last words.

When all was said and done, the scoreboard read 9-10…in Makoto’s favor. The fit students, Hoshi and Chabashira gripped their knees in mild exhaustion, whereas the other three were struggling to breathe on the floor.

 “That was fun. You guys almost had me there.” Makoto wiped the sweat on his brow.

“This is ridiculous.” Hoshi swore.

“How! We outnumbered him. More importantly, it’s  _Makoto_!” Ouma writhed on the ground.

“T-This is all your fault for giving him the ball, shit-for-brains.” Iruma said.

“How could I know Makoto’s last name was actually Jordan?” He growled back. “What gives?”

“You guys do know Hina, right?” Makoto said.

“Who wouldn’t know balloon tits?” Iruma replied sarcastically.

“Asahina-sensei is always trying to get me to join the swimming team, but Tenko prefers martial arts.”

“Blergh. Who cares about the fitness freak?” Ouma spat.

“You’re just mad because Ms. Asahina’s the only one in school who always manages to catch you.” Shirogane smiled smugly.

“Moogie, I swear to god!”

“Yeah, Hina is…energetic. She loves swimming most, but she does all kinds of sports. Only, she insists that physical activity is most fun when she does it with  _other people_.” He laughed, but there was a noticeable connotation of wear in his voice. “In the past it was Sakura and, although Kirigiri tried, she couldn’t keep up with Hina’s enthusiasm.”

“You don’t mean…” Hoshi began,  very slight traces of dread on his features.

“Togami, Fukawa and especially Hagakure were out of the question…leaving just…me.” Makoto’s eyes glazed over as he fell into a sudden depression.

A deafening silence fell. The shocking kind you’d find in any horror flick.

“I am so very sorry.” For once in his life, Ouma did not lie.

 

-Round 3-

 

“Good Afternoon.” Makoto walked into class, late. The piles of paperwork on his desk were getting more merciless with the amount of time lost in detention.

The headmaster stopped at the door as he noticed the…um…redecorating that had taken place in his absence. The desks had been cleared to the side, and now one large table was in the middle, with the students seated around it.

What are they, the delinquents of the round table?

“So slow, Makoto-chan. We’ve been waiting for 20 minutes!” Ouma greeted him, an affectionate smile on his face.

“Show the headmaster some respect, you vermin.” Chabashira reprimanding Ouma for something (even merely existing) was no surprise. Seeing her do it with a smile as wide and gentle as Ouma’s…was a major cause of concern. And it wasn’t just them.

“It’s great watching the pipsqueak get put in his place. Get fu-” Iruma wore the same smile.

“Don’t finish that sentence Miu. Goodness, you normies should just kill yourselves.” Seeing that very same look on Shirogane’s face was arguably the scariest of all, given how deadpan she was usually.

Makoto looked to Hoshi as the last, expecting to see the same dreadful jubilation.

“What?” The tennis pro raised his eyebrow, his expression the same as always.

…He could always count on Hoshi as the voice of reason.

“I’m guessing we won’t be having much class today.”

“You guessed _right_ , Makoto. Time for round 3.” Ouma smiled darkly, pulling up a stack of cards onto the table and pointing to the seat opposing his. An offer for Makoto to take position.

“This feels familiar.” Makoto sat down eyes drifting between the suspicious smiles directed his way. “You guys took your time, I was about think you’d given up.”

“Don’t blame me. It took a week and a half for me to get my minio- _everyone_ ready for the game. Nishishi.”

Makoto blinked. “This is your game this time?”

“Yes, MINE! You know what that means, Makoto. Play time is over.”

“We’ll see it about that. What’ll it be, Poker? I’m assuming that’s what all the smiles are about?”

“Correct. I toiled hours teaching these dumbasses how to wear a proper poker face.” Ouma paused, as Hoshi glowered at him from the side. “Except Ryoma, he didn’t need one.”

“If that’s what you want, go ahead. But Ouma-kun, this is your third try. One more and you’ll be stuck here, no ifs ands or buts.” Makoto smiled, confidently.

“Hmm. You reeeaaally think you can be so confident against me? Is it because of your old talent?”

“Talent? What was that?” Chabashira asked.

“If I remember right. The headmaster is the Ex-SHSL Good Luck.” Shirogane explained.

“What the fuck, shithead!? You’re asking us to take on a fucking luckster in a game of chance!? Are you retarded!?” Iruma raged…at least, her words and tone indicated such. Otherwise she was still smiling.

Reading their tells will be tough.

“Don’t worry, dumb cow. Makoto here’s actually very unlucky. I’ve seen the clips.” Ouma snickered.

“Ouma-kun, you’ve mentioned it before, but how do you have footage of the killing game? They were banned years ago, and records were destroyed around the nation.” Even Makoto – a participant – didn’t have easy access.

“An evil Supreme leader has his sources. Nishishi.”

“I see. Then let’s make a deal. I win, and you talk.”

“And when _I win_?”

“I’ll treat all of you to lunch for the next year.”

“Done and done.” Ouma agreed. Indicating that he probably hasn’t done anything illegal, otherwise he’d be more careful with that info. “But are you sure about murdering your poor wallet like this? You think your luck will bail you out here?”

“Who knows?” Makoto shrugged.

Ouma took the challenge in stride, placing his elbow on the table and resting his face on his palm. His fascination with the headmaster readily apparent as his mouth opened to speak. _**“ ~~Nufufu~~ Nishishi. The Super High School Level Good Luck, I’m intrigued! Let’s see if it can exceed me, the  ~~Queen~~ King of Liars."**_

“Wha-?” Makoto’s eyes widened, his voice coming out shallower than a whisper.

“I was boasting dramatically to set the mood. What else?” Ouma blinked.

“R-Right.” That cold, bemused voice and perfectly crafted confidence. He saw and heard…Makoto shook his head. 

“If you can’t get it up because the pressure’s getting to ya, then all you need to do is beg and Miu-sama will let you off for one day.”

Makoto laughed gingerly. “I appreciate the concern, Iruma-kun, but I’m fine. Let’s get started.” To Ouma’s credit, this was the toughest challenge yet for him. Only one of the group needed to be the last man standing, so they were willing to be bold with their calls and bluffs.

Makoto was no fool. He checked the cards before playing and watched the dealer (Iruma’s) every move. Shirogane volunteered, but she could be surprisingly deceptive. He chose Iruma because for all her faults, she was a strangely honest girl.

“Ouma-kun. I think it’s time for you to fold.” Makoto smiled at the boy, who was the last remaining opponent.

“Whatever do you mean, my dear? Aren’t you the one who should call it quits with that travesty of a hand?” The purple-haired boy snickered.

“Hmm, you might have a point.” Makoto chirped.

It was a funny game they played. Neither knew what the other’s hand was, and tried psyching each other out with high raises.

It really was nostalgic.

“In that case…I’ll call.” Makoto said.

“How bold. But are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“Your funeral.” Ouma flung his cards on the table, laughing at his – admittedly potent – had. “Straight Flush.”

Huh, so he wasn’t bluffing. “I wonder what I’ll be having for lunch tomorrow. You never specified the upper limit you could spend. Prime rib or steak fine with you?”

Makoto shook his head at the boy’s premature celebration and showed his own hand. “Royal Flush.”

The 4 students groaned, heads sinking into the table. Ouma alone retained his smile. He didn’t utter a sound, instead rising from his seat, walking to open the nearest window. With an astonishing amount of strength unbefitting his diminutive stature, he grabbed the closest desk and threw it out.

Good thing they were on the first floor.

“Excuse me, but I have to go bring that desk back.” Ouma said, deadpan. Walking out of the room.

“I think you broke him.” Hoshi murmured.

“He’ll be fine.” Makoto chuckled himself. “That’ll be all for today. Tell Ouma you guys can leave early.”

“This is a first.” Chabashira inquired.

“I’m feeling a little under the weather today. And it’s not like I want you guys to miss out on your daily lives. Take a break.”

The students watched Makoto’s retreating back, even as he disappeared into the hall way.

“He didn’t look so good.” Tenko said peering out from the dear.

“Didn’t you hear him dip-shit? He said he was sick.” Miu replied

“He  _looked_  fine when he came in. And he didn’t even ask us to re-arrange the desks.” Tsumugi wondered.

“Leave him.” Ryoma took out a cigarette now that the coast was clear. “There are many kinds of sicknesses. A guy like that must have his fair share of problems.”

 

\---

“You’re behind schedule, Makoto.” Kyoko Kirigiri said, entering the headmaster’s office. The Vice-principal still boasted a youthful appearance, though not quite as un-aging as Makoto’s.

“Sorry, I’ll stay overnight and have everything done by morning.”

“That’s only an effective solution when done once.” Kyoko approached him, moving around the wide desk and to Makoto’s side, where her gloved fingers cupped his face. “You haven’t been getting enough sleep as it is, have you?”

It was no surprise that she was formerly **The Super High School Level Detective**.

“You got me.”

 “That daycare you’re holding isn’t helping. You should spend that time catching up on your work. Not catering to them.”

“The students _are_ my work, Kyoko.” Makoto laughed.

"They might also be dangerous." The lavender-haired woman frowned. "We're at a crossroads now, Makoto. Despair has been pushed to the brink, but not completely weeded out. There have been very minor disturbances here and there, and Hope's Peak is like a beacon, attracting them."

"You're saying we need to keep a closer eye on the students. To make sure they're not under Jun-...despair's influence."

Kyoko didn't immediately reply, probably because of that slip-up he had no doubt she caught. "Yes. So far, we've had no issues. But those 5 are quite problematic. Ouma especially  _reminds_  me of her."

Makoto smiled. "Leave it to me."

"Can I? You're too lenient with children."

"I won't let Despair resurface, not from my school." Makoto assured her. 

"Very well. If you put it that way, I can't argue with you. I'll still keep a close eye on Ouma though."

"Suit yourself, but I think he's just a fun kid. If you're suspicious of someone. Check Shirogane."

"Tsumugi Shirogane? Why her?" Kyoko squinted.

"I’m not being serious. Just call it a lucky guess if you want to keep busy?" Makoto joked.

"I'll do a thorough background check on her, _Komaeda_."

Now that parallel had him bursting into laughter. “Speaking of Nagito and the kids. Ouma-kun challenged me to a poker game, yesterday. It reminded me of that time when I played against your dad, Nagito and Celes.” That person - back when she was just **The Super High School Level Fashion Girl  -** held a gambling tournament on the weekend, with us 4 as the finalists. Poor headmaster Kirigiri didn’t know what he was getting into. The lucky trio ceremoniously stripped him of everything he was worth, barring the clothes on his traumatized back.

“…Is that all? You only remembered them?” Kyoko pressed, staring him in the eye.

“Mhm.” Makoto nodded, slightly disappointed that she ignored the banter. He could see why though.

Kyoko narrowed her eyes and pulled back. “I hate how good you’ve gotten at lying.” She turned to the side, facing the window. Makoto looked in the same direction. Behind the school was a large memorial for the students and teachers who lost their lives in school. Naturally it took up a significant amount of land. Almost the entire back of the school, where great cherry-blossom trees were planted and in full bloom this season.

 Celes and Jin had grave stones there as well.

 “A long time ago, in the killing game, you told me that you wouldn’t move past the deaths of our friends but would carry them with you. For the rest of your life.” Kyoko believed that was an admirable sentiment. In fact, it may have been at that point when she first saw something special in him…however. “Is  _this_  what you meant?” She asked, her expression solemn.

One he couldn’t lie to.

 “…I don’t know.” He said, his voice low.

Kyoko closed her eyes, sighing. “In any case, I’ve received less complaints about the five students in your detention classroom. Ouma’s pranks have all but stopped. Either because he’s been reformed…or the more likely explanation, that something else has caught his attention.”

Makoto chuckled.

“Chabashira displays less violent outbursts towards her male classmates, while Hoshi and Shirogane have yet to skip a day of class. Social interactions on that front have also improved.”

“What about Iruma?”

“Well…”

 

\---

 

“This is bullshit.” Kokichi Ouma vented. “How could I lose to  _him_?”

“Kyahahahaha! Serves you right, after all your bullshittin, Naeggs owned you!” Miu Iruma mocked his suffering. The group convened after hours in a local restaurant, discussing their most critical plan yet.

 “I’m telling you it’s wrong. He’s  _Makoto_. A total, naïve  _dork._ Not some  _perfect_   _superman_!” It was then that for some godforsaken reason, Tenko, decided to chop in the head.

“Ow, What the fuck, Tenko?” Admittedly, he overreacted. Tenko’s blows used to hurt a lot more.

“Tenko won’t let you insult the headmaster.”

“What!? You, whose entire character is defined as “the misandryst dyke” is defending that guy?”

The next blow hurt _exactly_ like it used to. There we go, all it took was a little push.

“H-headmaster Naegi might be a male, but he is still amazing. Even Tenko couldn’t beat him.” Tenko flustered.

“You idiots are only realizing this  _now_?” Miu fuckin Iruma had to open her mouth.

“Realizing what, cumslut?”

“C-Cums-“ Tsumugi covered her mouth before she could utter any more inanities. Sadly, he could still see the orgasm on her face. This chick needs serious help.

“I think what Miu was trying to say is…’Isn’t this how it should be?’” Tsumugi “The Miu whisperer” Shirogane interpreted. “Naegi saved the world from SHSL Despair. Shouldn’t it be impossible for us kids to take down the SHSL Hope in the first place?”

…Huh. If that was the case, then Miu might have actually had something relevant to say for once. Not that he’d ever admit to it.

That said… “It was dumb luck. The real SHSL Hope  _was_  some kind of superhuman, but he was _way_ cooler than Makoto. This is still  _bullshit_.”

“But that guy was part of SHSL Despair too, wasn’t he?” Ryoma added

Yes, if his hunch was correct. He also… now works for Naegi. Hmmm.

Nope, still not buying it. Makoto ‘pushover’ Naegi couldn’t have saved the world. It was probably all Nancy Drew’s doing and he just hogged all the glory.

“Now that I think about it. Ouma never held up side of the bet. How do you have the footage of the killing game anyway?” The deviously perceptive Moogie asked.

“It’s impossible to find the whole thing. I have some small video clips lying around and I just put together the rest.”

“So you don’t actually know?” Tsumugi asked.

“My intuition never fails me, unlike some blue-haired bimbo.” And he wasn’t referring to Tsumugi.

“Really? How’s that intuition been working out for you so far against the headmaster. Or is this not even your final form?” She tilted her head.

…Son of a bitch.

“On that note. We’ve got one chance left, and only 3 days to implement it before the end of the month. If you ask me, we’re boned…and stuck together for the next while.” Hoshi spoke up.

“What’s so bad about that? You all get to gaze more at this delicious genius.” Miu said.

That. THAT is what is horrific about these circumstances. He didn’t want to spend another second with these idiots. He needed to win. He needed to beat Naegi!

“Your orders.” A bucket of chicken wings and fries was placed on their table.

“Might as well eat, then go back to thinking.” Kokichi said.

What the fuck was he saying?  It’s almost like they were already (blergh)  _friends_.

The dumb slut took the chicken leg, just one look at her obnoxious face told him another one of her stupid jokes was cumming-…COMING! Oh god no, I’m infected!

“If you boys want to eat a nice pair of thighs, there’s a plump, juicy pair right under the table.” She drooled.

“Miu. Shut the fuuuu-…” Hold on. Why was he playing Naegi’s game? Even though the headmaster told them they could choose the contest, that’s still just following his orders. When did Kokichi ever play by the rules?

“Moogie. Is the headmaster still at school?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Tsumugi!”

“He should be. The headmaster works late every day.”

“Perfect. Miu, you’re up.”

“Huh?” The blond bimbo asked.

“Must I think of everything? Seduce him with your cowtits. That’s all you’re good for.”

“C-C-Cow-“ And Moogie’s hand flew right back in place to block out the nonsense.

“This is going too far.” The bluenette said.

“Yeah. Not comfortable with that at all.” Ryoma disagreed.

“Does Ouma want Tenko to send him to the morgue?” Tenko followed suit.

“She doesn’t actually have to fuck him, idiots. Just convince him to let us go.”

“In what world can Miu be called 'convincing'?" Not an unfair question from Ryoma.

“It’ll totally work. Makoto’s a dip who fell for this idol’s innocent act. Miu just has to be her usual slutty self, only harder. We’ll give her a wire to records the whole conversation, then use it as blackmail. Hell, we won’t even have to stop at getting out of detention. We could get Naegi to do whatever we wanted. Like say, supplies for a certain inventor to build more cool stuff?”

“Someone call the ambulance. Tenko won’t hold back.” The aikido practitioner's arms reached for his tiny, adorable neck!

“No fighting. Miu isn’t going to flirt with the headmaster. Right…” Tsumugi turned to the side, her hand stretched out at thin air. “Where’d Miu go?”

“Out the door the second I finished speaking.” Kokichi grinned.

Just as planned. Dumb broad better record the whole thing.

 

\---

 

“Makoto~” His door was suddenly flung open by the golden-haired inventor.

“Iruma-kun. Isn’t it a little late?” Makoto was confounded by the sudden intrusion and even more unsettled by the fact that Iruma’s uniform was even more inappropriate than ever. The buttons on her shirt covering her sizable chest had almost completely loosened, revealing her black bra.

“Late is  _just_  right.” She approached him with a spring in her step.

“Why are you talking like that?” He furrowed his eyebrows. What are these kids up to now?

Iruma reached his desk, motioning to sit on the edge and draw her closer to him. “Come on, I know you’ve been trying to sneak a peek at these babies. I thought I’d give you a front row seat.”

Makoto’s mind raced to pinpoint the source of the insane propositi- oh it’s Ouma.

“Ouma-kun put you up to this, didn’t he?” Makoto smirked at her nervous reaction.

“N-No fucking way. Miu-sama’s just generous enough to rob you of your 40-year virginity. Not like you’re getting it anywhere else, with prudes like Kirigiri and Asahina.” She scoffed.

Makoto closed his eyes and held his knuckles tightly before reopening, gazing at his student with as much pity as he could muster. “Iruma-kun…I’m sorry.”

The girl blinked. “F-For what?”

“I should have stopped you the second you walked in. It’s…too late now.”

“Eh? Y-You’re not actually going to ravage me, a-are you? You’re cute but t-that’s moving too fast.” She shuddered, a warped smile on her face as saliva leaked through.

“I won’t be the one doing the ravaging. But I can’t guarantee you’ll come out in one piece. As your headmaster, I’ll give you advice for the future.” Makoto shook his head.

“Pay attention to your surroundings, Iruma Miu.” That voice – colder than the arctic – did not come from Makoto, but from the side.

Iruma turned to the source, her eyes widening to the utmost limit as horror struck her features.

“Yeah. Exactly what Kirigiri-san said.” Makoto smiled.

Iruma’s got off the desk faster than he could blink. She was probably trying to form an explanation, but words just wouldn’t leave her floundering mouth. Most people were rendered speechless just being in Kyoko’s presence. Currently, the ex-detective’s expression was neutral. Which only made her scarier.

“Let’s have a nice long talk in my office about what just happened, Iruma- _san_.” Kyoko said.

The inventor gave him a frightened look, pleading for him to rescue her. Silly girl, her request was far beyond his powers. “Good luck.” Was all he could offer her now.

“Iruma.  _Now_.”

“Eek.” The blonde stood at attention and walked slowly, as if any sudden moves would have her swallowed whole by a snake.

Kyoko followed behind, sending one last look to Makoto. “It appears the students might like you a little _too_ much.” Her eyes narrowed.

“They might.” He shrugged.

 

-Final Round-

 

The very next day.

“Are you sure, you’re okay? Last night might have been a bit…crazy.” Makoto talked to the blonde accompanying him to the detention session.

“It’s fine. I deserved it for how I acted. I’m sorry.” The blonde with a fully-buttoned shirt, blazer, long skirt and hair tied in a bun took her seat next to Ouma.

“Who the fuck is this? Where’s Miu?” The purple-haired boy asked.

“I’m right here.” Iruma said. The entire class turned towards her, intense shock written on their face.

“What  _happened_  to you?” Shirogane asked, hesitantly, likely dreading the answer.

“I’ve been reformed, for my true love.” Iruma sighed, dreamily. Her words making the students turn sharply towards him in horror.

 _She’s talking about Kyoko, not me._  - As if he could say that.

“Next time you think about seducing your teachers? Don’t. For your own sake.” He stated clearly. Kyoko didn’t give him specifics of what she did, but Iruma was delirious when next he saw her, and today she was like  _that_.

Ouma’s head fell to the desk. “I give up. You win.”

“You’re done? You still have one more try.” Makoto pouted.

“As if that matters. Damn perfect superman.” The supreme leader mumbled like a grade schooler.

“Huh?”

“He’s been calling you that ever since you won the poker game.” Shirogane explained. “And he’s right, you’re like a gary stu protagonist with maxed out stats, or in our case, the last boss.”

 _Perfect, me?_ The thought made him giggle uncontrollably _. Makoto Naegi_ , is being called infallible by these children? If they actually knew a thing about what he'd been like, they’d find it as ridiculous as he did.

“I wish I was perfect. Maybe then, I wouldn't have made so many empty, broken promises.” He spoke those words involuntarily, only realizing when he found the students staring at him oddly.

“Um…Naegi-san?” Chabashira’s features expressed worry.

Ah, he wasn’t so pathetic that he needed kids worrying about him.

“Naegi.” Ouma called, uncharacteristically serious  “Is it true you defeated The SHSL Despair?’

It dawned on Makoto that they probably knew very little about the tragedy. In fact, their generation was born at the time the fighting ended. To them, SHSL Despair must seem like a fantastic tale.

That’s how it should be.

“Not alone, but yes.” He answered bluntly. The days of being overly modest were gone. They were for the ordinary Makoto Naegi, but now he had stepped into shoes much greater than himself. To uphold the dignity of that position, He couldn’t allow himself to be anything but extraordinary. He didn’t have the luxury to be anything less.

“Really? Kirigiri didn’t do it? Togami didn’t hamstring the whole thing?” Ouma pressed.

“It was all of us. Why so curious?”

“Then why are you **The Super High School Level Hope** and not  _them_?”

On the other hand, _that_ was a title he was never comfortable with. Hope was in everybody, not just him. “Good point. I usually leave that up to the speaker to decide for themselves. It’s not like I’m hiding sides of myself. What you see is what you get, and you guys should have seen plenty of me this past month.” Probably more than they could stomach.

“In that case, Despair never stood a chance.” Hoshi slumped into his seat. The rest of the room (save him) was in unanimous agreement.

“What was the SHSL Despair like?” Chabashira said cautiously. Understandable, since that was kind of dangerous ground to tread.

Makoto ruminated over the question. Further reminding how different this age was. 16 years ago, there was nobody on the planet who wouldn’t know the name of the SHSL Despair. Some point after the tragedy, it was decided that all records were to be erased. Birthdate, official documents. Her many photographs and magazine appearances. All of it burned to cinders. She was also the sole student whose name was absent from the memorial. Mukuro, while an instigator, was given slight reprieve as a victim of the younger twin's machinations. But otherwise, few cared to speak of her either. Even fewer forgave her.

Nowadays, it was considered an unspoken taboo to speak the SHSL Despair’s name. It’s no wonder they wouldn’t know. By the next generation, she would become a ghost of the past.

“I hear she was female, Tenko. The literal devil was a girl!” Ouma laughed to Chabashira’s horror.

Makoto pinched his temples. Okay, maybe not quite so forgotten. “Ouma-kun, and the rest of you. You shouldn't talk about that person in public and everything mentioned here, _stays here_. I’m serious.” He said in a commanding voice. One effective because it was used so rarely.

They nodded. He hoped the Supreme Leader would listen. “

"To answer your question. The SHSL Despair was a friend.”

‘””””“HUH!?””””” The class entered into an uproar

Makoto blocked his ears at their screeches. “Is it that hard to believe?”

“She’s your worst enemy!” Shirogane yelled.

“I guess that’s how the public would have it.” Hope must hate and defeat despair. “To be honest, that was the case for a very long time. But like I said before, my memories came back slowly, and soon I remembered Her too. Looking back, the signs were always there. She thrived in chaotic environments, but really only showed that side to our class.” Often getting into hilarious skirmishes with the orderly Taka as as result. “With the others…She put up a front, and probably didn't care about them at all.” Even the 77th class that She conscripted for The Tragedy weren’t given the true despair the insane woman preached. She brainwashed and used them as disposable pawns. For someone who craved despair so much that She killed herself to experience the summit, such a cheap method couldn’t have been very satisfying, providing there was ever an emotional connection in the first place.

“I don’t think I’d want to be the focus of that person’s attention. Sounds like a pain.” Hoshi shuddered.

“It was. But it was fun, before the tragedy.” His words surprised them. “You might not believe it, but class revolved around Her. Parties, gatherings, tournaments and stupid stunts. She planned it all and we went along with it.” Always stretching the boundaries just enough to excite them, but not so much that they’d regret it too much. “Some people just had that kind of charisma, and we panicked when She disappeared for a bit.”

Makoto frowned. “Little did we know she orchestrated the first killing game with our upperclassmen during that dark time. That was probably when everything fell apart…and I could have stopped it.” As one of many who failed to do so. Only, He and Mitarai were the only ones who hadn’t paid the price with their lives.

“Hmm, Naegi could have stopped the tragedy? How’d you choke and fuck up that badly, teach?” Ouma pointed at him, disparagingly.

“I barely remember myself, but I do recall meeting a girl who claimed to have lost her memory. The voice, mannerisms and face all reminded me of Her…but you know the saying, hindsight is 20/20.”

“Tenko doesn’t think you can hold yourself responsible for that. Everyone was fooled…right?” Chabashira said. She couldn’t have known much, but she still tried to cheer him up. Such a good kid.

“True and I don’t blame myself. Not anymore. Whatever happened in the past is done with. All we can do is learn from it, and that became my philosophy towards teaching.” Makoto smiled. “Moments before the killing game’s end, She told me something.”

_**Hey, do you know why I chose you guys as the survivors among all the other students? It's because I remembered the two years I spent with you... You were my precious classmates, after all!** _

“I didn’t believe it. She was an incomprehensible monster to me. But I’m sure that was the truth. There wouldn't have been a need to make us part of the final formula for despair if She didn’t care about us.”

“I’m not sure I buy that. It sounds like arguing rationally with a psychopath.” Hoshi said

“I don’t blame or fault you for thinking that way. I have no proof myself, but I want to believe there was even a shred of goodness in that person. After all, the reverse is also true; even evil exists in good people. The SHSL Despair alone couldn’t have taken down the world, and She only brainwashed a handful of people. Most of the damage came from normal citizens who just went with the direction Hope’s Peak Academy did.”

Far too many could be held responsible. Hate Her and you had to hate everyone that shared the same sentiment, that would include a sizable portion of humanity. What was even the point?

In his mind, the slate was wiped clean.

 “Are you sure about that?” Ouma said, slyly. “Because to me, you hate her quite a bit. Isn’t that why you built this school?”

…

“What do you mean, Ouma?” Makoto cocked his head, a neutral expression on his face.

“You said it yourself. The SHSL Despair wanted to use this very school as the pillar to finalize despair across the world. Yet from where I’m standing, you’ve done the opposite. You re-opened Hope’s Peak and made it a stronghold of hope instead. That we’re having class right this second, is undeniable proof that the SHSL Despair was a complete and utter _failure_. Doesn’t that just make you giddy inside? It has to, because spite is the only reason you could have done it. Spite for the person who killed your friends and family.”

A ball impacted Ouma’s head, sending him falling out of his desk. “Ow ow ow. You trying to give me brain damage, Ryoma!?”

The Tennis pro held another tennis ball in his hand, very threateningly might I add. “There are just some things you don’t say, kid.”

“I probably have an idea what you were trying to accomplish, Kokichi, but be glad Ryoma stopped you…Otherwise, Tenko would have delivered the fatality.” True to Shirogane’s words, the aikido master had stood at some unknown point and was right behind the supreme leader’s desk, poised to strike.

“Settle down, you guys. Ouma-kun is only speaking his mind, and it’s not like there aren’t others who believe this is true.” Makoto waved his hands weakly, trying to restore order. “But I’m afraid I’ve never thought that at all. Despair came apart when She died. There was no need to go out of my way to rebuild HPA for that reason.”

“Then you seriously expect me to believe you don’t hate that crazy bitch one bit? After all the people she killed? Even your own friends?” Ouma deadpanned.

“Not any more than I would any of you.” Makoto stunned them into silence. It must have sounded insane, _insulting_ to anyone who heard it. To be placed on the same pedestal as the demon woman herself.  “I…wouldn’t be qualified to be a teacher, much less headmaster, if I thought otherwise. I care about everyone here like family, no exceptions. She was a student just like the rest of you, and myself before. She needed help and none of us noticed.” Not even Mukuro understood the despair fetishist right at the end. “She was just another student I couldn’t save. There isn’t room in my heart to hate anymore. I’m sure others could carry that burning hatred to the grave, but I didn’t want to live such a sad life. Optimism has been, and will always be, my defining quality.”

That was his answer to The Tragedy.

…

 “You…are just way too soft! Softer than soft. You’re like cotton candy!” Ouma whined, chastising him…then grinned devilishly. “But, I lost to you. Doesn’t that make me softer than cotton candy? I might have to re-evaluate myself a bit.”

“How annoying, you just wanted to hear him say it.” The reformed Iruma stared distastefully at Ouma.

“Yeah, I figured he’d give a boring answer like that. However, anticipating is one thing. Seeing it happen is another. Naegi’s so hopelessly hopeful. I still can’t believe it.” Ouma replied.

“Am I really?” Makoto said nervously.

“”””“Totally the Perfect Superman.”””””

He hoped this wouldn’t catch on…

“I’ve got it.” Shirogane said, drawing attention to her. “The last game. It’s my turn and I’ve thought about one.”

“Name it.”

“Truth or dare.”

“Spin the bottle? Fittingly plain idea.” Hoshi said.

“No. Just truth or dare. Makoto picks which and we make him answer or act. If he goes through with it, then we all have our turns.”

“Waste of time.” Ouma slumped.

“I can’t really decline. Go for it.” Makoto scratched his hair. “I’ll pick truth.”

“Since Kokichi succeeded in establishing that you don’t have a hateful bone in your body. Why not turn things around?” A shade of a smile formed of Shirogane’s face. “The question is –  Do you like Kirigiri-sensei? If so, why haven't you proposed to her yet?”

Makoto did a double take, the spluttered an anxious “W-What?”

“What’s the big deal? Everyone knows you two have been dating for years.” Chabashira muttered.

“We haven’t.” Makoto flustered, trying to hold back from blushing like a middle-schooler.

The self-proclaimed master of evil narrowed his eyes. “Fucking really? After all the scheming, is truth-or-dare really how we’re going to get you? Come on, man. This is seriously lame.”

“Then answer the question, headmaster. Why hold back this long?” Shirogane continued her attack.

“Dare.” Makoto muttered, changing the nature of the game.

“Alright. Go and propose to Kirigiri-sensei, this instant.”

“No mercy.” Hoshi shook his head.

“I-I can’t do that!” He was sure he was red in the face now.

“Then…you lose.” Shirogane smiled victoriously.

“He can’t do it, because he loves someone else, right?” New Iruma gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. What the…is she trying to threaten me to stay away with that? What the hell did Kyoko do to her?

“Miu, you’re seriously creeping us out with your Naegi-lust. He’s like twice your age.” Shirogane sighed.

_It’s not me she’s talking about!_

“Besides, who else could there be? Asahina-sensei?” Hoshi closed his eyes, while Ouma’s own, widened. “Oh, Naegi-kins, you dog~. There might be hope for you yet.” The smartass teased.

 “Okay. You guys win. Detention’s over.” Makoto covered his face, smiling to himself as the kids grinned victoriously.

Good grief. Teenagers were such a handful.

 

\---

 

Makoto returned to the classroom. Detention was over, but his business here wasn’t. It probably would never be.

He sat down on the chair behind the teacher's desk, his eyes scanning the empty classroom. A frown spread across his face.

The headmaster reached down to the bottom drawer, unlocking it with a key. Inside was a single yearbook. The only one of its kind and one he found accidentally during the renovation of the academy. Nobody else had ever seen it. This book – which helped him regain his memories – both enlivened and disgusted him.

Makoto flipped the pages open. Frozen inside were a collection of the happiest memories he had ever made. With many friends who were no longer here. Yet those friends taught him many things, even at their worst.

_Nobody is perfect. Holding someone to that standard means averting your eyes from their pain._

_Strength comes in many forms, however, strength born from anger leads to regret._

_Dreams, no matter how beautiful they appear, are never worth throwing your principles and morality away._

_Sometimes, you must have the courage to make sacrifices in the name of progress._

_Love is blind_

Makoto couldn’t tell if he wished to smile or frown. His feelings were always conflicted.

And the dissonance was strongest whenever he gazed upon one particular photo.

What about this picture was so sickening? It captured both himself and the woman whose arms wrapped around him possessively, blood red fingernails cupping his face.

“I was so stupid.” Why didn’t he see her for what she was back then? If he had, then maybe nobody would have died. They were close enough, right?

Unlike so many others, Makoto wanted to remember

Unlike them, Makoto forgave.

Makoto didn’t blame himself…but that didn’t mean he didn’t regret.

He clawed at his hair, closing his eyes and shoved the book back into the desk, locking it with the key like an addiction to hide. Actually, that was a fitting analogy.

The headmaster wiped sweat from his face. It happened every time. His heartbeat pounded, and his anxiety rose, as did the temperature in the room.

He got up and moved towards the windows, trying to let the air in. Makoto immediately covered his face as a gust of wind blew cherry blossoms into the classroom.

“Windy today.” He muttered but was ultimately thankful for the cool breeze.

Makoto turned around…and froze in place. His muscles relaxed. His pulse slowed to a crawl. His mouth widened in awe while his breath turned shallow. All those reactions aimed at the illusion before him.

The cherry blossoms scattered in the air, illuminating the room in a fluorescent hue. The formerly empty seats now claimed by his classmates. His long, departed friends donned in the old Hope's Peak uniform. Their eyes were glued towards him. Their lips narrowly curved upwards into faint, unstrained smiles, enough that Makoto made out the facial gesture, but not the meaning behind them. Was it contempt? Did they disparage him? Or...

(His eyes stung and watered.)

He didn't know what they wanted to tell him but... _they were just as he remembered them_. Before the murders, class trials and executions. No knives, no spears, no bludgeoning, no fires, no poison. Nothing from the killing game afflicted them. They were _just kids_ , in school, where they ought to be.

Everyone seemed so real. Real enough that if he stretched his arm out and reached for them, he could-

“Naegi!” 

Makoto's eyes snapped open. The loud call woke him just as the ten figures vanished like the morning mist.  

He lifted his head up from the teacher's desk he'd occupied. His position gave him full view of the room. The chairs were empty, and the windows closed. His classmates weren't there...and they hadn't been for a very long time.

Acknowledging that torturous truth, Makoto slowly regained his bearings. His lips were dry, and his eyes weary. 

It was a dream. But when did he fall asleep?

He looked to the side to find Ouma, Shirogane, Iruma, Hoshi and Chabashira. The students who’d arrived at some unknown point, concern etched on their faces.

“Everyone…sorry, I- did I fall asleep?” He palmed his damp forehead.

“You’re telling me. We’ve been trying to wake you for the last 3 minutes, dude. Hell, Tenko was about to call the medic!” Ouma jabbed his finger at him.

“Sorry.” He repeated, standing from his seat. “Did you guys need something?” Actually, why were they still together? “Don’t you have your own cliques?” Circles were still called that right?

“Yeah, but I’ve grown a sick, soft spot for these guys. They’d make alright minions, so I’ve decided to let them hang around me.” Ouma snickered.

“Says the one without any friends in the first place.” Hoshi remarked.

“I have 10 000 friends!” Ouma lied.

“I can try cosplaying at any time. But I kind of miss this place.” Shirogane played with her skirt.

“What?” Makoto scratched his cheeks. Weren’t they doing their best to get away from here?

“Take the hint, numbnuts.” Oh, the regular Iruma was back. He was thankful Kyoko didn’t scar her for life.

“Tenko can play with Himiko any time, but Naegi-san’s schedule is a lot stricter.”

…

“Isn’t it a little weird that you guys want to hang out with your headmaster?”

“Oh please, you may be an old guy, but you don’t look a day over 17. You’d pass for a student senior year. As expected of the perfect superman, even age has nothing on you.” Ouma said.

Makoto really didn’t feel like pointing out how the baby-faced boy had no right to tell anyone their appearance was incongruent with their age.

Instead, Makoto just let Chabashira and Iruma drag him out by the arms. “Let’s go, Naeggs. You can treat Miu-sama and her lackeys to dinner like you promised.” The inventor cackled.

“Oh, Tenko wants steak!”

“Huh? That was for the bet you guys lost and it was lunch.” Makoto said, ever-confused by this bunch...Ah, what the heck. They've done a great job this past month, he might as well treat them as a reward.

...

Kokichi and Tsumugi stayed back in the room. 

“What the hell was he doing in here. He looked like he was gonna pass out.” Kokichi commented, arms behind his head.

Tsumugi cast him an unimpressed glance. “I see.”

“What?” The younger boy turned to her.

“You never realized. I knew the others wouldn’t, but I’m surprised you didn’t either. This classroom, I mean.”

“What about it?”

“This was Class 78’s homeroom.”

Kokichi’s eyebrows rose slowly as the implications of having detention _here_ , sank in. A warped snake-like sneer spread across his face, as if it dared to fall off. “Nishishi. I always thought optimistic guys like that were boring, but Naegi is very promising indeed. So honest, yet so shady. How mysterious.”

“You’re one to talk.” Tsumugi sighed.

“As are you.”

…

The door slid open.

“Oi, you two coming…or do you plan on causing trouble?” They had no way of telling how long Ryoma had been behind that door, but the harsh, suspecting glint in his eyes had the two at attention and already moving.

“So scary~. You don't need to tell me twice.” Kokichi sprang into action and ran down the hallway. “Naegi,  _baby_.  Let’s hit karaoke, I’ve heard you’ve a got a voice that’d make anyone cream their pants. I want to see that cow, Miu, lactate everywhere, if you catch my drift~”

“So he says, but he’s  _becoming just as vulgar_  as Miu.” Tsumugi’s eye twitched in irritation.

“And he doesn’t even realize it. What an idiot.” Ryoma sighed.

Meanwhile Makoto laughed giddily at the teenagers’ squabble, the black emotions he’d felt earlier were bottled back up in their presence.

That scene of his classmates…that was the most vivid image yet.

Everything started when he watched the Despair video near the end of the killing game involving the future foundation directors. Ever since then, he’d catch glimpses of them. His friends at any point in time, or anywhere.

He’d only told the 6 he considered his closest friends in the world. The remainders of Class 78 and his sister. The news worried them greatly, believing there might still be lingering effects from the brainwashing, but head exams revealed nothing of the sort.

If there was a problem, it stemmed from Makoto’s own mind. In other words, his inability to forget the friends he couldn’t save.

…

Why did Makoto Naegi rebuild Hope’s Peak Academy? This question circled the minds of millions and nobody could come up with a conclusive answer. Nobody but the man himself.

Beyond Makoto’s humanitarian ideal to build this school as a cornerstone of the future, He had one more reason. One personal, selfish reason that he had never admitted to anyone, but he suspected his friends knew it anyway. Kyoko and Byakuya did but would never come out and say it. Toko likely as well, despite her inferiority complex, she was an expert at reading human emotion. Hina, Komaru and Hiro, while often chastised for their simpler minds, were scarily observant to matters that deeply concerned them.

Ouma criticized him for acting on spite, but It was more primal than that.

Makoto just couldn’t let go.

Sayaka, Mukuro, Leon, Chihiro, Mondo, Kiyotaka, Hifumi, Celes, Sakura, and Her– His friends, whose lives ended far too abruptly, were his motivation.

Watching all his students grow, live out their youth and graduate – To walk into the future that his classmates were robbed of – at some point became  _his_  reason for living. These 5 may not have been aware, but their happiness was his salvation.

Makoto Naegi strongly believed in the future…however, he couldn’t say farewell to the past. For better or worse, he would carry the memories of his classmates – their happiness and suffering – with him for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> This marks the first time I've written Miu, Kokichi and Tenko, and it's been a while since I played V3. Feedback on whether I was on or off-point with their characterization would be appreciated. Also, I initially intended for the other 4 to get more speaking roles, but Kokichi's seriously a blackhole for attention. The writing just gravitates towards him.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
